


the owl and the duckbutt

by noyabeans (snowdrops)



Series: writing with snowdrops (saso 2017) [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 13:34:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11358546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowdrops/pseuds/noyabeans
Summary: they always see each other in the same eras, but neither of them ever thinks to ask when the other one's from. (au where both of them are time travelers who have never met in the present)





	the owl and the duckbutt

**Author's Note:**

> fill for **saso 2017 bonus round 1: alternate universes**.  
>  original prompt is [here](http://sportsanime.dreamwidth.org/21522.html?thread=10835730#cmt10835730).

“Hey hey hey, Duckbutt-kun!”

Oh, god, it’s _him_. Kuroo would recognise that voice even with his eyes closed. It’s - “Owl-kun,” he drawls, already grinning as he spins around. Owl-kun’s face is dangerously close to his own. He takes a step backwards, creating some semblance of personal space between them, right as Owl-kun hollers, “It’s _Bokuto_. I’ve told you that so many times, you’re just pulling my leg!”

Kuroo actually does remember his name. He just finds it dangerously cute, the way Bokuto’s brows pull together and his arms take up offended positions on his hips as he stares affronted at Kuroo whenever Kuroo pretends not to remember.

“Where are you going? Why are you here? This is what, the fifth time I’ve seen you?” Bokuto says as he falls in step next to Kuroo down the cobblestoned paths without a second thought. If he was going anywhere before, he seems to have abandoned those plans. It’s a kind of spontaneity Kuroo sometimes embraces and other times envies.

“I’m here for work,” Kuroo says, raising an eyebrow. “Unlike someone, obviously.”

That draws an indignant squawk from Bokuto. “Hey, what! I’m here on business too!”

Kuroo grins. Bokuto is _so_ easy to rile up. “Right, you sure you weren’t stalking me?”

“You think too highly of yourself, _Duckbutt_ ,” Bokuto coos.

Conversation flows naturally when he’s with Bokuto. They’re... _friends_ , Kuroo would suppose. As friendly as time travellers can be, really. Bokuto’s one of only two time travellers he’s met in more than one era, and honestly? Kuroo could do without seeing that sulky, short and snappy time traveler with the awful attitude. In comparison, Bokuto’s a godsend - cheery, skilled and easy to get along with. Bumping into him while out on missions always inexplicably lifts Kuroo’s mood - truth be told, a part of him is always holding out in hopes of them bumping into each other whenever he’s sent out on a new mission.

He finds out that Bokuto is here in the eighteenth century to reset some threads of history - he doesn’t know what, and doesn’t pry. Missions are confidential, for the most part. Even though he’s sure Bokuto would be more than willing to tell him, he’s not entirely sure he wants to know. God knows that some of the missions he’s been sent out on are weird enough. He doesn’t need to hear about any other weird ones. (Bokuto volunteers some information about a mission he’d just completed last month anyway: prototyping a thirtieth-century self-manufacturing fridge, and bringing it to the twentieth. Because reasons.)

The train pulls up; he bids goodbye to Bokuto in between plumes of black smoke and whistling engines, almost sorry to say farewell. He hasn’t had this much fun in a while, however short-lived it is. After all, travelling is a mostly solitary job. It’s not like he can just go up to a tavern owner and say, “Yo, I’m from the future.”

“See you again!” he calls as the train begins to chug out of the station, all creaky wheels and whistling engines. Bokuto waves at him, smiling so brightly Kuroo thinks he might just go blind.

“See you, Kuroo!”

Without the constant stream of Bokuto’s chatter and laughter, the compartment he’s in suddenly feels too quiet. Kuroo almost feels a little lonely - damn it, why hadn’t he asked Bokuto where he was headed next? Heck, why hadn’t he asked when Bokuto’s from? It’s a question he asks every time traveller he meets, but in the excitement of all their conversation from the first time they met, it’s totally slipped his mind.

Argh - nothing for it. It’s too late, anyway. He makes a mental note to ask Bokuto the next time they bump into each other.

There has to be a next time, right?

* * *

He’s walking down the street wondering if he should drop by Kenma’s before going home when something heavy suddenly drapes itself across his shoulder without warning. Instantly on the defensive, he’s about to elbow the offender in the gut when he catches a whiff of cologne. It smells suspiciously like -

“Bokuto?”

The answering guffaw is all he needs. “You're heavy,” he huffs, trying to ignore the way his heartbeat skitters. Bokuto is too close. He pulls away.

“And you're cruel,” Bokuto pouts, before immediately perking up. “Why’re you here? On a mission?”

“Shouldn't I be asking you that? I'm walking home.” As emphasis, he raises his bags of groceries up to Bokuto.

“What?” The look of surprise on Bokuto’s face is almost comical. “Dude, I just came from home!”

Realisation dawns a moment late at the word Bokuto’s used - “You live here?”

“That’s what I jus-”

“No, like _here_ here?” Kuroo makes a vague waving motion at their surroundings. “Like twenty-first century here?”

Bokuto cocks his head to a side. “Yeah? Wait, by home you meant your _real_ home.” He pauses. “I didn’t know there was anyone else from this century! Or this city! Where have you been all my life, dude?”

“Out on missions,” Kuroo says dryly, but his mouth is pulling into a smile anyway. The revelation is making him feel dizzy. Who would have thought- no wonder they get along so well-

And in a rare burst of impulsiveness, “Hey-”

“Do you-”

Both of them stop, exchanging a glance; in the light of the evening sun, Bokuto’s eyes are like molten gold. Kuroo swallows, as Bokuto laughs, loud and rumbling. “You go first.”

The handles of the plastic bags press insistently into the curve of Kuroo’s fingers.

“Are you heading anywhere now?”

“Nope,” Bokuto says.

“Let’s go grab a coffee.” Kuroo has to give himself props for managing to sound so calm. His heart feels like it’s going to jump out of his chest.

“You’re not going to get us lost, are you? I haven’t forgotten how you got us lost the other time.”

“That was because we were in the middle of an _abandoned village_ without a map,” Kuroo groans, face immediately flushing scarlet.

“I’m putting my fate in your hands, then. Don’t get us lost,” Bokuto says, but he’s smiling so wide, teeth and all, that Kuroo can’t even work up the strength to pretend to be insulted.

**Author's Note:**

>  ~~what do you mean this was an AU of my own[time travel au](http://archiveofourown.org/series/696285)~~
> 
> [tumblr (rielity)](https://rielity.tumblr.com/) | [twitter (noyabeans)](https://twitter.com/noyabeans) | [haikyuu writing journal](https://noyabeans.dreamwidth.org/)


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